Giornale


Exiting the parking lot of the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in the warmth the early spring sun was energizing in a way that sitting in a classroom simply could not be. We were in Albany to see and explore Nelson A. Rockefeller’s monumental Empire State Plaza, our first big outing as a group. It had taken several cars to get us all there, but after a small regroup we were good to go. Before we could get to the main event, we took a slight detour and stopped by the New York State World War II memorial, a lovely fountain and statue that sits nestled in a towering circle of hedge in the shadow of the massive New York State Museum next door. Wandering the memorial and discussing with everyone about what common features made it a memorial really helped me to get in the mindset to think about the plaza. A little slice of memory isolated in the city scape. I had to wonder if the Plaza would be anything like it.
Walking to the Plaza itself took but a few minutes, and soon we were searching for a staircase that was not blocked by metal fencing to make our way up onto the main plateau of the area. Though we had been warned that as it was a Sunday, the area would be quite dead, it still took me by surprise to see such a colossal space, with its towering agency buildings and empty fountain, nearly empty. My first impression was that I had walked straight into another memorial, but this one was for the visions of the future from the 1960s instead of the dead at the World War II memorial across the street. 
Upon a closer look and after some discussion about the space while we perched at the top of the massive staircase that overlooks the empty fountains, I began to reconsider my first assessment; after all, there were people there, just not the bustle that I had expected. Instead, we watched as a woman ran through a workout routine on the stairs a bit off to our right, watched a group of people learn to dance, and various others wander the space with their own agendas. There were more people there to exercise. Some were there with their kids. Some were even there to utilize the benches for studying.
Though there were people using the space, one of us brought up the point that the space was not very welcoming. Looking around, I saw how this could be true. The architectural style was brutal and monolithic. Each building was steel and reinforced concrete, smooth and impersonal. The three agency buildings and Corning tower carve out their place in the skyline, and the flooring around the long plane of fountains is a harsh but dignified white marble surrounded by red brick paths. The smooth sides and deceptive weight of the egg add to the impersonal and almost sculptural look of the Plaza at large. The Plaza itself is bookended by the New York Museum and the New York State Capital, a Romanesque building that seemed almost out of place in the cold and retro-futurist Empire State Plaza. 
Perhaps that was what Rockefeller had wanted; the overwhelming presence of the Government offices in a space where you could not truly interact with them. It was at this point that we separated, taking about 20 or so minutes answering questions about the space. I took this time to examine the axiality of the space and wonder about the contrast in buildings. After time was up, we walked over to the New York State Firefighter Memorial for another conversation about this, during which we shared with each other how the people of Albany interacted with the space. Everyone conceptualized the space a bit differently.
To finish up our tour, we retreated down into the emptiness of the Concourse, Albany’s “underground city.” It was surreal. Such a large space, clearly meant to be utilized, but with almost no people in it. Accompanying us as we talked about the differences between the plaza and the concourse below it were the paintings and sculptures of Rockefeller’s personal collection lining the walls. It was almost like walking through a modern time vault, though I’m sure that on weekdays the space exudes a completely different feeling. 
Leaving the Plaza to go to dinner was both a relief (for my feet, after all that marble) and a pity. There was something about that place, something awe-inspiring, that echoed in my thoughts for the rest of the day. I think perhaps I shall go back when it is not so very empty.

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